


A Perfect Illusion

by tiptoe39



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, Multi, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-28
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-11 02:13:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiptoe39/pseuds/tiptoe39
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two best friends head to a strip club and are intrigued by one of the strippers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect Illusion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dedougal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/gifts).



> You can think of Jackson as an OC or as an AU version of Jackson from Teen Wolf. No knowledge of TW is needed to... ahem... _enjoy_ this story. :) For [](http://akadougal.livejournal.com/profile)[**akadougal**](http://akadougal.livejournal.com/)'s birthday. Happy (slightly belated) day to one of the sweetest people and hottest writers I know!

His swagger's as upright and confident as a cowboy's, but the moment the stripper starts to dance, his whole body turns to water. He ripples in a wave, shoulders to hips to thighs, and swings around the pole like it's the only thing keeping him from melting. Jensen sits forward in his chair for the first time that night, and he forgets the drink he's been nursing as he watches intently. Jared grins.

It's rare when Jensen shows this much interest; Jared's always noticing hot men on the street, but Jensen's the type to hide his attractions. He shrugs, he evades, he gives little left-handed compliments like "Yeah, if you like that type." At this point, Jared figures any interest is a good sign.

He thinks Jensen's standards are just too high. Not surprising, when you're that damn gorgeous to start with. And Jared, who notices everyone, was never _not_ going to notice how beautiful Jensen is, with his clear glass-green eyes and spraying of freckles. Jared has entertained his own thoughts about mapping them with his tongue, spreading his fingers among the field of stars that stretches across Jensen's limbs. Entertained the notion, but certainly not hung his hat on it. He loves Jensen, as a friend and brother, and he's honestly just happy to get any time with him.

But the stripper apparently meets Jensen's high standards. He moves on the pole, shimmying pressed up against it. His hips rotate and gyrate, and the line of his cock against the tight briefs he's stripped down to is hard not to notice. Mostly because it's hard, period. And, Jared realizes with a jolt of excitement as the music winds down, Jensen and the the stripper have been locked in eye contact through the entire song. The stripper's flashing a crooked, seductive smile, and Jensen is grinning in an infatuated stupor.

The stripper arches against the pole and strikes a pose. His body is covered with a thin sheen of sweat from the lights and the exertion. His cock stands up proud, prominent, and it's amazing a riot of men doesn't rush the stage trying to get a piece. Then again, that's what bouncers are for. Jared's hands itch and his mouth waters.

The lights and music freeze. The announcer's voice fills the bar. "Let's give it up for Jackson!"

* * *

A good ten minutes later, another dancer now on the floor, and Jensen suddenly can't be shut up. "Did you see the way he moved?" he says to Jared, his face lit up with fascination. "I never saw anybody dance like that. That was one hell of a pose at the very end, don't you think?"

Jared sips on a beer and smiles mutely. He's not about to bring up that Jensen's fixating, not when Jared's so proud of him for showing interest to begin with. Also, it gives Jared an excuse to keep thinking about Jackson some more himself. And the thought of him and Jensen locked together, mouths sucking at each other and freckled limbs intertwined, is anything but an unpleasant image.

A few of the strippers move through the crowd now, greeting regular patrons and performing a few lap dances. Jared scans the crowd for Jackson, but he's not among them. Damn. Jared wishes he could have given Jensen a gift of a lap dance. Not at all because Jared wants to see that ass shaking over his friend's lap. Or watch the whisper of their lips in an almost-kiss. No. His thoughts are totally selfless. Really.

They're approached at last not by a stripper but by a bouncer, who presses a note into Jensen's palm. Jensen stares for a moment in confusion, then unfolds and reads the note. His face goes red, and he hands the paper to Jared without a word.

_Saw you looking. Wouldn't mind. I'm done at 2, so stay awake and come 'round the back. Bring your friend._

When Jared looks up, Jensen's out-and-out grinning.

That's a major improvement.

* * *

They actually leave the bar after that and head to an all-night diner for some coffee to sober up from the beer. Jensen declares he wants to be in good working order, and Jared has to fight down a peal of laughter just watching his face. He hasn't seen Jensen glow this hard with pleasure since the last time he scored an awesome role. It's nice to see that radiance from something other than work.

"Are you sure you're OK with my tagging along?" he says. "That doesn't strike you as weird as hell?"

Jensen shrugs. "I'm not gonna say no to a thing this guy wants. Not when he can move like that."

"Geez," Jared says, "you're actually openly lusting! I haven't seen you do that in ages."

"He's worth it." Jensen bites at his lower lip. "Jackson. What is with me and the J names, honest to God?"

Jared fights for a suitable reply, but the waitress is bringing them pancakes and Jensen's actually flirting with her. Whoever this Jackson guy is, he's been a one-man aphrodisiac. Jared's actually sad this won't last more than one night. Seeing Jensen this full of life and excitement is doing his heart more good than his friend could possibly know.

Jensen insists they leave the diner in time to be at the back door to the club fifteen minutes early. There's another bouncer there, likely stationed to keep stalkers from harassing the dancers, but Jensen shows him the card and the bouncer relents and lets them wait. At two the boys start pouring out, dressed in T-shirts and baseball caps, as unobtrusive and normal-looking here as they had been brazen and attention-grabbing in the club. Jared silently marvels at the transformation. He and Jensen are both in show biz, too, but the theatrical magic of transformation still gives him a low, deep chill. So much that's kept secret from so many, for so long, for the sake of a perfect illusion.

Jackson is one of the last to emerge, and Jared recognizes him immediately – he swaggers like he did on stage, all confidence and easy flow. At the sight of Jensen and Jared he stops, takes in a small breath, then walks forward, shoulders thrown back, and cocks a hip as he stands before the two of them. "Saw you left. Figured you chickened out."

"Just getting revved up," Jensen responds, easily, and an electric charge runs through Jared's body. Holy crap, neither of them is gonna pull any punches tonight.

Jackson laughs. "I hope you've got a hell of an engine, then," he says. He starts sauntering down the alleyway toward the sidewalk, expecting Jensen and Jared to follow like a pair of lost puppies. Jared finds it mildly obnoxious – still attractive, though. Jensen is entranced.

It's a weird, held-breath kind of walk. Jackson's out in front, still halfway performing for his audience of two as his ass sways in his jeans. They're practically painted on, they're so tight, and Jared wonders if it hurts, if Jackson can't get an erection in those pants without their snug fit trying to burst open. Based on what he saw on the dance floor, Jackson's got enough of an asset to worry. But no discomfort shows in his walk, nor in his face when he looks over his shoulder to glance at Jared. "Go with it," he orders, sternly, and Jared finds himself inclined to obey. He breathes in night air and wills himself to relax.

"See?" Jackson's voice and face soften a little. "Your buddy's OK with it. It'll be good."

Does he know? Jared squints. Jackson doesn't seem the type to care much about the rest of the world, so long as he brings the man of his choice home after work, but that was unduly kind of him. Jared considers revising his assessment of the guy; after all, Jensen has high standards, and it'd be unlike him to go for someone who's totally skin deep.

"Yeah, don't worry about it, I'll rock your world," Jackson says with a grin, and marches on. Jared snorts. His original assessment of obnoxious, but attractive, stands.

* * *

For a stripper, Jackson has a hell of a neat pad. It's not huge, but it's impeccable, and that leaves it looking about three times its size. Jensen's sitting on a low leather couch (looks like the tip money goes toward paying off the furniture), eyes fixed on Jackson as he locks the door behind him and lays his bag down on a shelf across the room. Jared sits in a nearby chair, his heart racing. What exactly is supposed to happen now? He's never gone home with a guy he hadn't even touched yet.

Jackson cracks the bones in his neck and meets Jensen's gaze. "What's your name?"

He gets a shy smile in response. "Jensen."

"Jensen and Jackson." A laugh spills from Jackson's throat. "That's pretty funny."

"You think that's bad," Jared pipes up, "I'm Jared." Jackson glances at him, and his eyes have a sort of scrutinizing squint to them that makes Jared wonder if he should have shut up. But what's he doing here, if it's not to talk? Does Jackson expect him to just sit there mutely and watch?

Jackson shoots him a reassuring smile, but Jared's still not sure what it means. Meanwhile, Jackson's sat down on the couch next to Jensen and is gazing at him. "Jensen," he says, "you wanna kiss me?"

Jensen nods. Jared can see the gooseflesh rising on his arms.

"Jared." Jackson's eyes are on his all of a sudden. "Do you want to see us kiss?"

His indecision sinks underneath a well of lust. He nods.

Jackson leans forward, his tongue a flash of pink between his lips, and licks at Jensen's mouth before taking it with a firm kiss. His eyelashes flutter as he lowers his eyelids, and Jensen flushes as the kiss goes on. His hands rise slowly to cradle Jackson's face, and Jackson reciprocates, the two of them near-mirror images, overlapping, all freckles and blood-rushed skin and warm layering lips.

Heat shoots to Jared's crotch. He shifts on the seat, clears his throat so he doesn't choke on his next breath, and tries to adjust himself subtly. He doesn't want to stop them. He wants to watch the two of them for another month, at least. So much peach and orange-brown on their skin, such long fingers sliding against tender cheeks.

Jensen's lips part, and Jared can see the impression of Jackson's tongue licking into his mouth. A flash of both their tongues as they break for a breath, then Jensen's kissing him aggressively, pushing him back and working a hand into his hair. His mouth opens and closes in long strokes on Jackson's, and he makes a deep, guttural sound. They're both hard, cocks popping up in stubborn relief from their jeans, and Jared fights the urge to reach over and massage them both, or reach down and at least massage himself. But they're in their own world, and Jared's just supposed to watch and suffer.

Jackson breaks the kiss and licks his lips. They're wet, glistening in the dim light. And he breaks the fourth wall of that self-contained world in an instant.

"Jared," he says, "do _you_ want to kiss me?"

Jared makes a few incoherent noises and manages to nod. He feels like he's the one who's been kissing him this whole time. His pulse is high and his skin is flushing, just like he'd been Jensen. Or Jackson, for that matter. Either of them.

"Jensen?" Jackson's smiling crookedly. "Can I kiss Jared, too?"

"Y-yeah." Jensen's voice is wrecked, hoarse. "Hell, yeah."

Jackson moves like water, all fluid and sensuality, until he's standing over Jared, one leg on either side of his knees. "Mm," he says looking down, "yeah, you want this." His hand dusts lightly over Jared's thighs, and for a moment Jared thinks he's going to make contact with his cock – _godyespleasetouchit_ zings in a jumbled rush through his body – but he doesn't, instead sitting down on his thighs just above his knees. He learns forward, and Jared groans hopelessly as Jackson's lips meet his. They land solid and firm. Jared can smell Jensen's breath lingering in his mouth, and he surges into it, fighting to part Jackson's lips, ready to lick in and take every taste he can.

Jackson chuckles into the kiss. "That's right," he says. "You're both gonna do just what I tell you do."

Jared meets Jensen's eyes. He's never seen them so possessed, so dark with lust and excitement. In that moment he knows Jackson's right. Anything to see Jensen like this.

A shirt hits the floor. Jackson's stripping as he's going, swinging his leg over Jared's knees to stand up straight and drop his pants. A moment later he's back in Jared's lap, in nothing but a navy pair of boxer-briefs, and his hips are swinging obscenely. Jared stares, his jaw on the floor, until Jackson reaches for his hands and places them squarely on those swinging hips. "C'mon, feel me," he murmurs, and continues with the lap dance.

Jared's hands lock onto his waist, then slide up to his bare chest and down as far as his hips. Jackson's impossibly smooth and hard everywhere, and judging from the pleased look on his face, he knows it. Jared swallows hard as his hand skims over the curve of Jackson's ass and finds the crevice where it meets his legs. Jackson sucks in a hiss. "Found a hot spot," he murmurs. "Good for you. One point to Jared."

He crosses between them and lowers himself onto Jensen's lap. "You'd better catch up."

Now Jared has a view of Jackson's ass as he swings his hips for Jensen's benefit. Jensen doesn't need prodding; he lifts his hands to run them over Jackson's body as soon as it starts moving. When they slide back to heft the cheeks of Jackson's ass, the flesh tightens, and Jackson bucks forward. "One point for Jensen," he murmurs, and then "Two points" when Jensen's fingertips touch the delicate line that Jared had found before.

"Hang on, that's not fair," Jared murmurs, and rises from his chair; Jackson looks over his shoulder and nods, beckoning. When Jared grabs his hips, fingers layering over Jensen's, Jackson eases up to stand, then curls forward. His butt grinds into Jared's erection, his face drifting across Jensen's neck. At his waist, Jensen's fingertips drift sensually over Jared's, perhaps by accident. Jared gives a choked shout.

"And one point to Jackson," Jackson murmurs. He straightens up and extricates himself from their grasp. "I should warn you guys, I always win."

His cocksure smile is the sort of thing Jared can't decide if he wants to punch or kiss off his face. "OK," he says, "I think I'm ready to let you two get naked now."

Jensen reaches for his own collar; Jared's hands go to the fly of his pants. But Jackson clucks his tongue. "One condition, though." He holds Jensen's gaze a moment, then his eyes fly to Jared's and the look there is so dead-serious that Jared's frozen. "You have," Jackson says slowly, "to undress each other."

Jared starts. Jensen glances at him nervously, and his eyes shoot the silent message to Jared: _Say something!_

"Jackson, we're not--"

"But you want to be. Both of you." Jackson sighs, exasperated. "Any dumbass could see that."

Jared shakes his head. "I don't think you know how high his standards are. He doesn't go for a lot of guys the way he's gone for you, trust me, I've seen a lot of it."

"Ask him _why_ his standards are so high," Jackson snaps. "Sexual tension in this room is gonna kill me. So get busy if you want to get busy. _Jesus._ " He rolls his eyes.

Jared dares glance at Jensen. "Is he --"

"How am I supposed to get involved with anyone else," Jensen says, "when I'm comparing him to you every single day?"

Jared cannot breathe. He makes an embarrassing squeaking noise.

Jensen gives a soft, shy smile. "No one could measure up, Jay. Ever. I can manage a one-night stand, but a relationship? When you're the one guy I can't live without, the one guy can talk to about everything?"

Jared takes a step forward. There's a bright syllable burning in his throat, and he can't quite propel it to his lips.

"Hello," Jackson calls. "Threesome waiting on your moment. Get it over with."

But they can't quite. Too much staring and gaping, too little movement. Jackson lunges forward and grabs Jared's hands, locking them around the hem of Jensen's shirt, and backs off again. A moment later, Jared's knuckles brush Jensen's stomach beneath the shirt, and that's all it takes to break the dam.

They cling, kissing like Jared never thought they would, and Jensen's mouth is spice-warm beneath his, insistent and firm as he presses kiss after hot kiss into Jared's lips. Jared tries his best to keep up, earnestly pursing, but he's still out of breath with the discovery, and his mouth won't work right. He busies himself pulling Jensen's belt out instead, then undoing his fly, and when he yanks down Jensen's boxers Jensen finally loses his own breath and tips his head back, pushing his hips into Jared's hand.

Jensen's cock all of a sudden against his hand before Jared's even had a chance to touch more of him and oh _God_...

He pushes back. Jensen's eyes fill with questions.

"No," Jared says, "I want, I just, this... this is a hell of a first date."

"First date comes later. Sex comes now." Jackson couldn't sound more bored if he tried.

Jensen grins, breathless. "Yeah, Jay. We'll do this right another time. Let's have some fun."

It's weird to hear Jensen say it, but his eyes are sparkling and his hands are in Jared's pants, and there's only so much a guy can do to fight that kind of inspiration.

Jared kisses him hard. "Right," he says. "Let's have some fun."

Jackson snorts. "Finally."

Jared lifts Jensen's shirt and groans at the feel of their skin together. "Wanted this so long," he murmurs. "To know how you feel against me."

"Fuck, Jared..." Jensen gasps. He reaches out one hand to where Jackson watches them, still looking bored. "Come on," he murmurs, forcing the words out though Jared's started kissing his neck now, stealing his breath some more. "You're... you're with us. Come on."

Jackson melts against the two of them, kisses Jensen long and wet. Jared can hear the slick sound of their tongues and lips above where he presses his own mouth into Jensen's neck. He drops to his knees, lets Jackson and Jensen kiss as he works off the rest of Jensen's jeans. He can't resist, as he slides back up, pressing his mouth against Jensen's cock. Jensen jumps and twitches, and his knees buckle.

"Bed?" he murmurs, still pushing kisses against Jackson's mouth. "Bedroom in this place?"

"No room for three," Jackson says. His fingers skate down Jensen's back, hit him in some place that makes Jensen tense up and swallow hard. "Gotta be here."

"On the floor?"

Jackson shrugs. "It's a carpet."

"Jared?" Jensen glances down. "Stay where you are."

Jared laughs and nuzzles his thigh, then reaches out to guide them both down.

Jensen lands on him first, his weight dropping in a single rush, and Jared catches him with lips and arms, wrapping around Jensen like a coil of ivy. His bare feet slide against the flesh of Jensen's calves, and his fingertips spread across Jensen's smooth back. He's enveloped and enveloping, with Jensen's body running along him and through him. Even with the burn of the carpet underneath, rubbing sharp pinpricks into his back, he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Jackson crouches down next to them, guides their mouths together with a firm hand on the back of Jensen's head and another on Jared's shoulder, and then he joins, leaning to lick at the corners of their sealed mouths, teaching them how to kiss with three. When Jared turns his head to capture Jackson's lips more fully, Jensen purrs, nuzzles Jared's cheek and licks tentatively in. When his tongue touches the corner of Jared's mouth where it touches Jackson's, Jared feels it like lightning.

"Yeah," Jackson breathes when he draws away. "I'm thinking we fuck him. What do you say, Jared?"

"I-- yeah." It's like Jackson said before. Jared would do anything he asked.

Jackson lets Jared continue to hold Jensen as he lubes him up, and nothing could be more erotic than watching Jensen's face contort in agony as Jackson works him open. When Jackson hits a sweet spot inside him, Jensen's face drains of color and he pushes back, his body sliding deliciously over Jared's and rubbing a leak of Jared's pre-come against his stomach. When he rises onto his hands and knees, Jared can see it glistening there.

"Good?" he asks, cradling Jensen's face with one cupped hand.

"Yeah," Jensen murmurs,"yeah, so-- so fucking-- g-- oh, Jay, I need you guys."

"You'll get us." Jared bites his lip as he feels Jackson unrolling a condom onto him. "Shit, Jen, soon, you'll get us real soon." He can't think of more of the words to say, so he just kisses Jensen again, hard and full, teeth grazing against the surface of his tongue and his lower lip.

Jackson's hands are on Jared's hips now, guiding them into a cradle for Jensen to rest on, and in another second a sublime heat and tightness is gliding down onto his dick. Jensen keens and rears upon Jared, face lifting toward the sky.

Jared doesn't know how he can take it without going off like a firecracker. He's inside Jensen, fucking Jensen, and just the thought of it is enough of a turn-on without the actual physical sensations – and they make it unbearable. Jensen's a tight sheath around him, warm and slick; his hands burn hot brands into Jared's collarbones as he motors himself like a pump up and down. When he can open his eyes, he breathes shallowly and looks down at Jared with ineffable emotion in his eyes, then pushes off and continues riding.

After a moment of frantic pumping, Jensen slows and looks over his shoulder. "Jackson," he breathes, and Jared wonders at how he says the name. It's like Jensen's calling out to his personal god of carnality, and Jared too is starting to believe that Jackson's not all human. He's got to be some sort of muse, sent down to guide them together and open them up to new possibilities.

But when Jackson slides in next to him, he's all human, burning hot, and Jared cries out at the impossible tightness of the fit. It's incredible, Jensen's incredible in the way he's able to stretch to fit them both, but at the same time it feels like the limit. From the way his flesh hugs them together, Jared worries Jensen's this close to breaking.

Jensen worries, too – Jared can see it in his face. He settles backward onto them slowly, and stays still as his body accustoms itself to the intrusion. Breathing thinly, he finds a balance between the gravity that pushes him down onto Jared and the hands that guide him back toward Jackson. Jackson's on his hands and knees above Jensen, kissing at his back, and his eyes meet Jared's over Jensen's shoulder. Jared manages a weak smile; Jackson's is full, but brief, and a moment later he's groaning and pushing forward, testing Jensen's willingness to let him move.

"OhGodyespleasemove," Jensen babbles, tears springing to his eyes. There's that question answered.

Jared holds still as long as he can. He wants to feel Jackson move against the two of them, test the feelings and how they differ. Impossible tightness when they're still, the stretch and drag when Jackson slides – and a brief fear for the integrity of the latex, but Jackson's lubed himself up outside the condom and they're sliding together as naturally as water, even in the close quarters. And Jensen, God, _Jensen_ – the way he moves, the way he cries out and grabs Jared's hand to bring it down to his exposed cock – "Jay, please, God, I'm gonna – want you to–" and then cutting himself off and panting, green eyes pleading. Jared can't keep still any more than he could hold his breath for more underwater.

His hips cant up. His thighs rub Jensen's; his knees bump Jackson's. He leans back and wedges the crown of his head against the ground so he can push himself up against Jensen's moving body. "Fuck," he mutters, "fuck, fuck, fuck...." He's aware of the in and out, the up and down of breaths and bodies, the push and pull of Jackson's hands on him. A steady one-two drumbeat, growing faster and more frenzied each moment. Pounding against his ribs, the inside of his skull. Jensen's dick hardening and fattening in his hand. Jackson groaning. His cock sliding against Jared's. Friction. Heat. Accelerating.

Jensen lets out a throaty scream as his orgasm wracks him. He goes tight, locks up and comes with a long, sustained spurt of white over Jared's hand and stomach. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," he keeps yelling, even when the best of it has past.

Jackson takes him at his word, motoring in faster, and Jared is being wedged in tighter and deeper than he thought he could go. Stars break white across his vision for a full minute before he comes – everything's in glorious suspended animation, with nothing but the galaxy shining before his eyes and the warmth lifting his body higher and higher. Finally, it breaks like a wave, and his muscles burst from lockdown into desperate convulsions. He pants, desperate for air and breath and sanity.

Jackson grunts and pulls out, still hard and, from the look of his white knuckles, damn close. He peels off the condom and kneels above the two of them. "I'm gonna mark you both," he growls. "Jensen, lie down next to him. C'mon."

Jensen obeys; he's still under Jackson's spell, even though Jared's starting to come back to himself, and when he lies down he pants for several breaths before turning and kissing Jared. It's soft and tender, a kiss like nothing else in the world matters. Jared slides an arm over his shoulder and kisses back. Their legs overlap, their chests press together, and somewhere in the ensuing kiss they hear Jackson grunt and feel the hot spurt of come over their bodies. Jensen licks at his lips and gasps as though he can feel Jackson's orgasm without their touching.

When Jackson's done, Jensen breaks the kiss with Jared. "Come here," he says, reaching out an arm to Jackson.

Jackson's still breathing hard, but he shakes his head. "I don't think so," he says, his voice icy. "I'm not into cuddling."

Jensen remains looking at him a moment, then drops his arm, tucking his body against Jared's a little tighter.

"I'm gonna go grab a shower." Jackson rises. "There are some towels over on the counter. Feel free to take off when you're cleaned up."

At this, Jared feels like he should say something – he turns to Jensen, looks over at Jackson, but can't think of the words. Jackson's back is already to them, and he's not looking over his shoulder. It's all weird, impersonal, and Jared doesn't know what to make of it. But Jensen doesn't say a thing, and Jared can't help but feel like he ought to take his cues from Jensen on this one. The two of them had connected so well.

At the doorway to the bathroom, Jackson finally turns. "You guys weren't bad," he says absently. "Come on back sometime." And, with a smile that lifts his cheekbones but makes him look oddly peaked in the dim light, he enters the bathroom and closes the door.

Jared watches him go, then turns to Jensen. "Should we be following him?"

Jensen shakes his head. "This is what he wants," he says. "Let him be."

Jared's not so sure. In fact, he doubts very much Jackson wants them to leave. Not after the way he'd reached out to them. Not by the way seeing Jared and Jensen connect turned him on, made him come across the joined flesh of their bodies.

But maybe that's part of the illusion, too. And it's not for Jared and Jensen to say when Jackson gets to take off the mask, come off the stage and be a real person. Maybe, the next time they come back, he'll be ready to share a little more of himself.

In the meantime, the two of them have a first date to plan and a future to look forward to.


End file.
